


Firsts are Important (non-smut version)

by amoonlitknight



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: And Thus Catra, Comedy, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Everyone's having fun, Except Adora, F/F, It's Life After Wartime, Pregnancy, Pyromania, Shibari, Strap-Ons, TIME TO FIX THAT, Wholesome, oh and
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:06:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25494337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amoonlitknight/pseuds/amoonlitknight
Summary: They had their first "I love you". Their first kiss. Their first "save the universe" moment...But there's one more big First waiting, and Adora is pretty freaked out about it. It's not like the Horde did a great job training her about feelings, never mind how to start an intimate relationship with your (don't tell her Adora said this) fragile, emotionally tempestuous, psychologically damaged partner.Hey, maybe one of her friends has a good idea...let's go ask 'em how theirs went!(This is a version of a previously published story with the explicit smut scene removed, but all the bawdy jokes and emotional development left intact. A couple people asked me to edit this to share with friends who don't like smut but do like dirty jokes.)
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra), Bow/Glimmer (She-Ra), Mermista/Sea Hawk (She-Ra), Netossa/Spinnerella (She-Ra), Perfuma/Scorpia (She-Ra)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 31





	Firsts are Important (non-smut version)

Firsts are always...important.

There is a temptation, always, to say they're _special_ in the sense of being slightly more magical than everything that follows, but those of us who have a lot of firsts know that often they're underwhelming and a bit awkward. The reality is that messing up a lot is the only way to get any better at something—and even more strangely, doing kinda well the first go-round of anything can be more harmful than beneficial to your progress, if you're a bit of a perfectionist.  
  
Still...you remember your first time, right?

The first time you got held, in that way that made your heart pound and your skin flush?  
  
The first time you heard them say those _perfect_ words?

The first time their breath and yours were, briefly, the same?  
  
Because those moments, for all that they may have been stumbling, and awkward, and rushed— _important_.  
  
The first time the kiss lingered just a moment too long, and you _knew_ what was going to happen?

The first time your eyes met and you felt that awareness that yes, this was happening...

The first time you—

+

“...you know,” Adora finished, lamely, making a little gesture which she hoped would help her friends catch on. She could feel herself flushing, and felt like an idiot.

It was evening in Brightmoon, and therefore it was beautiful. The wind whistled gently amongst the mountains. Rivers flowed. Birds chirped and stars glittered. It was a great place to relax and experience the splendor of nature, but the mood wasn't exactly right for asking your friends about their, uh, _private time_ , in Adora's opinion.

She'd finally worked up the courage after proposing yet another game of Strategic Battle Simulator on the holotable. It was convenient for her purposes, because it guaranteed Catra wouldn't be around—she had grown bored after winning her twelfth three-on-one game in a row and now loudly complained that she wasn't interested until they let Entrapta fiddle with it, so she had taken to vanishing into the castle library and reading until she dozed off on top of the bookshelves when they chose it for game night.

Glimmer and Bow gave each other a worried look.

“Okay, before we have this conversation, we have got to talk about how nervous you are about saying the word 'sex',” Bow said, in a polite but firm sort of way. “It's just a word.”

Adora cleared her throat awkwardly. “Sorry.”

“Sex,” Glimmer said, a little irritably. “Seeeeeccccckkksssss. Sexual in-ter-course.”

“Don't you think it's a little weird to just _say_ it like that—”

“SEX!”

“Agh, alright, stop it! Everyone in the castle will hear you,” Adora complained, giving Glimmer's wide grin an irritated glance.

“Fear of the word is fear of the thing,” Bow observed. “George always says that.”

“Fine,” Adora growled. She took in a deep, calming breath, composed herself, and breathed out. “S- _sex_.”

She frowned as Bow and Glimmer snickered.

Glimmer covered her mouth with the back of her hand. “I'm sorry, it's just—really? I'm sorry. I shouldn't be—”

“No, you shouldn't,” Adora huffed. “Just answer the question.”  
  
“Alright, alright,” Bow said, raising a calming hand. “But, why do you want to know? Not that we mind sharing—well, I mean, I don't, anyway, but—”

He was interrupted by Glimmer's face falling into a look of horror.

“Oh! Oh, _no_ ,” she gasped. “You don't think—”

Bow's mouth worked silently as he glanced back and forth between the two women.

“ _No_ ,” he said, eventually, in total disbelief.

“She _has_ been pretty cranky—”

“It's Catra. That doesn't mean anything...”

“Come on. It's _that_ kind of cranky.”

“I dunno...”

“What are you two going on about?” Adora interrupted, although she knew very well. She just wanted it to stop, because it was making her flush.

Bow and Glimmer turned concerned looks on her.  
  
“You're telling us, that in all the months since... _everything_...you two haven't...?” Bow trailed off, looking slightly horrified.

Put very much on the spot, Adora felt the need to defend herself. “Well, we've—we _kiss_. Like all the time. You've seen it.”

“Yes, we have. And there is a point at which you two do get to be a little _much,_ like during state banquets. But no, no—that's a whole different chat for another time,” Glimmer said, waving a hand to interrupt the distraction.  
  
“And we _cuddle_! I mean, _all the time_.”

“Yes! She literally _jumps in your lap_!”

“Oh, that's—that's not anything, come on,” Adora scoffed. “She's been doing that our entire lives.”  
  
“Yes,” Bow said firmly, “and as we just got done having an _interstellar war_ about, she has been _desperately in love with you_ for your entire lives.”

Adora frowned. He had a point, but still. “I meant, you know...in bed.”

“That's what sex _is_!” Glimmer shouted, desperately. “It's cuddling in bed, but you just _keep going!_ ”

Somehow it was _that_ which unnerved her.

No, she _knew_ why. She just didn't like the memory replaying itself loudly in the back of her head.

She was worried that the fear would come out to show itself when she did this. She wanted this to go... _right._ Easy. Friendly conversation, no pressure.

Which it wasn't. But they didn't need to know that.

It must have shown on her face, because Bow and Glimmer's excited looks of amused disbelief fell, hard.

They didn't mean it.

She'd work her way around the problem. Everything was fine.

“As you have picked up on,” Adora said, carefully, “Shadow Weaver and the Horde were long on talking about...you know, tactics. Strategy. Not long on emotions, obviously. And, well...I think she always kept me away from this sort of thing. On purpose. So I'd be _focused._ ”

“Oh,” Glimmer mumbled. “I...see.”

Adora raised her hands and steadied her voice. “I just want to...you know, make sure that what I'm feeling is normal. There have been some _...moments,_ where I felt _...things._ And I want to just sort of...figure them out.”

Powerful things.  
  
Strange things, that made her worry.

But then, she didn't know—maybe this was all perfectly normal, really, and she was getting upset over nothing.

Hence this ridiculous affair.

Bow smiled, in his 'everything's going to be alright' way. “Adora, wanting to be physical with someone you love is very nor—”

“And,” Adora interrupted sharply, “I want to know how to do it right.”

“Wait, do _...sex_ right?” Glimmer asked, furrowing her brow. “Because as far as I know you and Catra are going to be very different than Bow and I for a few very important reasons, which—wait, didn't I give you some books about—”

Adora frowned at her in frustration. “No, no. Not that. I _know_ that. Do the _first time_ right. After everything she's been through, and everything it's taken to finally get together, I just...I want it to be perfect. She deserves that.”  
  
Glimmer and Bow gave each other another wary glance.

“What?”  
  
“No, nothing. You're fine,” Glimmer said soothingly. “Sure. Sure.”

Adora peered at her suspiciously, but since Glimmer seemed to be winding up to get to the gory details, she didn't comment.

Glimmer leaned back in her chair and gave a long, lazy _pphhhbbtt_ through her lips, the kind of sound you make when you're not sure what to say and want to be juvenile about it. “I mean, where should we start, Bow?”  
  
Bow smiled an unusually quiet and personal smile, which suggested a treasured memory was replaying in his head. “Quite awhile ago, wasn't it?”

Adora's brow furrowed. “Hmm? But you two just started seeing each other, right? You know, _romantically_ , or whatever.”

“Oooh,” Glimmer's eyes widened in sudden alarm. “Uh...wow, maybe we shouldn't be the first people you do this with. I mean, she's—they probably—and we...well...”

“We gotta tell her,” Bow insisted. “She has to know.”

“What are you two talking about—”

Bow looked stressed. “Uh, how can I put this...here, in Brightmoon, uh...we have a bit of a different perspective about this stuff than other people—”

“Bow and I have been sleeping together since, like, _way_ before we met you,” Glimmer said flatly, giving Adora a slightly skeptical look and rolling her eyes. “And now you're going to tell me you never noticed.”

Adora's mouth worked silently for a moment.  
  
“But you two just—didn't you—”

“Like, on the ship, on our way back to Etheria,” Glimmer continued in an even but faintly annoyed tone of voice, “when you were having all your intense... _stuff_ with Catra, and Entrapta was having all her intense _stuff_ with Darla...what did you think _we_ were doing, exactly? Playing cards?”  
  
“Well, I—”

“Did you not notice that once we sort of made up a _little_ , we spent some time alone and things were more or less back to normal from then on?”

Bow sat up with indignation lit on his face. “Now, that was _not_ why—”

“Sure didn't hurt,” Glimmer said, grinning smugly. “And who started it, exactly?”

She chuckled as he cleared his throat and sat back again.

“ _Any_ way,” Bow said, irritably, “Look, Adora, here in Brightmoon, it's normal for friends to...enjoy time together. You might have heard people talk about 'body fun'? That's...that's sex.”

She had. She had also noticed people being somewhat private about it, and had wondered why.

Adora nodded thoughtfully. “Oh. I guess I just assumed it meant—”

“Training,” Bow and Glimmer said together.

“Uh...yeah.” Adora felt vaguely insulted, but let it go. It was perfectly reasonable, honestly...

“What Bow and I have agreed about _recently_ , Adora, is that we have a _romantic_ relationship as well as a sexual one,” Glimmer continued, rolling her eyes. “In most places, you know, it's the other way around, but here in Brightmoon we are free to try before we buy.”

“That is the _least_ romantic way you could have put it,” Bow said. 

Glimmer ignored him. “How have you not noticed— _Catra_ knows! Well of course she knows, she probably read about it somewhere while trying to conquer us. More than that, she _makes fun of us_ about it—while you're there!”

“What, really?” Adora said, a bit more anxiously than she meant to.

“Uuuuugh! _Yes_. In _public._ And it is _so_ embarrassing...”

Bow blushed furiously. “You know how, sometimes when we walk into a room, she'll look at us funny and say 'Hello, your highness' to _me_?”

“Uh—“

“She's saying she can still _smell_ me on him,” Glimmer growled through clenched teeth.

“Oh! So _that's_ what that's about...”

There was, at this point, a short and very thoughtful pause.

“Wait, you laugh _with_ her when she does that,” Bow observed.

Glimmer and Bow peered at Adora curiously.

“Well I don't want to ruin the mood,” Adora said, anxiously.

She looked away and pouted a bit as they groaned.

“Look, Adora, for us, this is normal,” Bow said, once everyone returned to their usual level of barely-managed composure. “In Brightmoon, we value _all_ the ways love expresses itself, so...yeah, after a certain age it's normal for friends—even rivals sometimes, that's always interesting—to be intimate with each other. And try out different things, with different people.”

“Wait, so are you saying your first time was like, with a bunch of people?” Adora asked, feeling a little lost.

“No, no, it's—you're not—okay,” Glimmer grumbled. “I knew we were the wrong people for her to start with—“

“Okay, okay. Adora. Here we go. It was...really nice,” Bow said, talking over her. “We spent the day together, talked, walked in the gardens...decided we were ready...”  
  
Glimmer leaned in, eyes shining with pride. “And then I teleported us up into my bed, which—you remember, I used to barely be able to cross the plaza with more than one person, but I was excited—”

“—and then we had a very pleasant first time together,” Bow said, somewhat emphatically cutting Glimmer off before she started gushing about any details in particular. “And it was... _nice._ ”

“So nice we did it twice,” Glimmer added, once again looking smug, although it faltered a bit as she thought it over. “Twice...more. Twice more times. _Two_ more times.”

Adora glanced back and forth between them. “Is that...not normal?”  
  
Glimmer's smug grin spread from ear to ear and she began to speak, but Bow interrupted her sharply, blushing crimson and struggling to meet Adora's eyes. “It was a very positive experience and _you shouldn't judge your own sexual experiences against anyone else's_.”

“He's shy,” Glimmer said, gazing at him fondly across the table. “It's adorable.”

“Uh—”

“There's a reason I'm locking him down, is my point,” Glimmer continued, clearly not thinking about what she was saying, given the bedroom eyes she was giving Bow.

“Wait—locking him down? But I thought—”

“Glimmer, we're just confusing her,” Bow said firmly. He turned a serious and somewhat sad look on Adora, which irritated her for some reason. She wasn't _broken_.

Right?  
  
“Maybe you should just tell us what's going on,” he said, although his kindness felt like pity.

“I—”

+

_The shower wasn't the right place for this. It was wet and cramped and_ public _—but now, as it happened, Adora found the thought hard to cling to._

“ _We...we shouldn't...”_

_“It's okay, Adora. Come on, live a little. We're allowed to be a_ little _bad...”_

_Her lips were perfect. Warm and supple and strangely gentle, the hint of the fangs behind them a delicious little secret—_

_There was something special now, something_ more _, and it was thrilling and wild, making her chest hammer like full gallop hoofbeats and her mind race even faster than that. Visions, needy and dark and primal, swirled in her mind..._

_It was happening again._

_It was happening again, as Catra pressed herself into Adora—nude, gloriously, feeling everything all over. It's what she wanted, what she_ needed _, she wanted to_ CRUSH _Catra into herself,_ HOLD _her against—_

_She froze._

_Catra held the kiss a little longer, but she could tell the moment was gone._

“ _Again?”_

_Adora's throat worked soundlessly._

“ _You okay? Hey. Talk to me. Come on.”  
  
“I...Catra, I'm...”  
  
“Hey, we talked about this,” Catra said, trying to smile. “If I get to have my little brain freezes, so do you.”_

_She stepped away, and Adora was at once relieved and agonized. Her body, which had been so unbearably desirable mere moments before now just seemed wet and...a body. Nothing terribly interesting._

_“It's not you,” Adora insisted, for the dozenth time._

_The absence of Catra's body against hers felt like she'd ripped a bandage off a wound. She_ needed _it._

_She needed it so badly it was terrifying._

_It wasn't just need, it was...something._

“ _Oh I know it's not me. I'm great,” Catra said, playing it off as a joke. “Take your time. Get your head on straight. We're good.”_

_Their kisses, later, were chaste and gentle and very, very polite. And nothing like as intoxicating._

_But they were safe, and safe was safe was safe._

+

“I dunno,” Adora said, her forced chuckle sounding hollow even to her. “I'm just being me, I guess.”

Bow raised an eyebrow. “In...what way?”

“You know,” she chirped, before bopping her head lightly with her fist and sticking out her tongue. “Dumb. Heh.”

Glimmer frowned nervously. “Adora, don't—we were just giving you a hard time. Teasing. Please don't take it personally.”

“Oh, no, I mean, I'm just kidding. Although...yeah, I probably should have figured you guys out a long time ago.”  
  
“Well, hold on,” Bow said, very characteristically stepping in the way of an oncoming storm of self-pity. “It's—it's pretty clear that you just don't know a lot about what goes on around sex, is all. And we were dealing with so much back then, you were focused on She-Ra, and saving Catra...”

Glimmer's face grew a little pained. “Yeah, but since then—”

Bow shot her a fierce look. “Not. Helping.”

“Guys, I'm fine. Really!” Adora declared, when they gave her uneasy looks. “But, you know, this stuff you're telling me about Brightmoon? Could have given me the heads up a _long_ time ago. Because I am remembering some things that I've said to some people that I think meant something _very_ different than what I was trying to say.”  
  
Glimmer winced. “Yeah, I...we've...there's been some...stuff. Don't worry about it.”

“Well _now_ I'm going to.”

“Look, Adora,” Bow said firmly, taking her hands very gently. “We are _not_ the right people for you to talk to about this. You and Catra come from a _very_ different culture, and a place with a lot of pain. Our experience is really different from yours. There's clearly someone else you should be talking to.”

Glimmer stood so that she, too, could hold Adora's hands. “It's sweet that you care this much about her, and want to take care of her. But Bow's right.”

Adora closed her eyes, and considered this at some length. The gentle pressure on her hands was, she had to admit, a comfort as she wandered into some unpleasant places.

“You're right,” she said, firmly, opening her eyes. “Of course you're right.”  
  
She stood, and let her friends' hands fall away. They looked up at her warily.

“So...” Glimmer murmured. “You're going to—”

“Take Darla out for a spin,” Adora said, confidently. She turned on her heel and began marching off. “Don't wait up.”

This seemed to take a moment to sink in before Glimmer all but shrieked, “Wait, _what!?_ ”

“Talk to someone who has, you know, a similar background. Right? Good idea!”

Bow sounded panicky. “Where are you—Adora, that is _absolutely_ not what we meant—”

“Fine then, it's my plan, _based_ on your plan. Good plan? Great plan. Off I go...”

The truth was they probably tried to stop her, but she didn't really internalize what they were saying. Her mind was elsewhere, which was a safer place to be at the moment. Her legs and arms and mouth moved on automatic.

The beginnings of a strategy to interrogate the information she wanted were forming in her head, and while she may not have been, as it turns out, super great at noticing when her _closest friends_ were _doing sex_ at each other for years, she was good at making strategies.

Not as good as C—

She was really good at making strategies.

“This'll work,” she said.

“I do not understand the target of this command,” Darla intoned. “Please restate.”

“Just fly, Darla.”

+

_The moonlight fell on Catra gently._

_Maybe it was magical residue, maybe the Moonstone, but in all the years they'd slept near each other, Adora had never seen little tiny motes of moonlight glitter at the very ends of Catra's fur like this._

_She tried to focus on that. It was so calm, so peaceful. So pure in its innocent beauty that it was almost absurd to see on Catra's face, which was so often grinning and cunning._

_But then, she was also often very beautiful. Constantly, in fact, if you were to ask Adora._

_This was a moment of serenity. An accidental moment—she'd woken up in the middle of the night, from a red and angry dream, and...there this was. Perfect and spectacularly lovely._

_It was almost like snow..._

_Focus on it. On the tiny pinpricks of light._

_Don't look down. Don't even think about it._

_Don't think about how Catra had pulled off her shirt in her sleep._

_The dream had been a very particular_ kind _of red and angry, after all._

_Don't_ ruin _this._

_Catra's eyes flashed open, pupils widening in the dark._

_“Hey,” she murmured._

“ _Hey,” Adora murmured back._

_Those dark and gleaming mismatched eyes glanced down._

“ _See something you like?”_

_Oh, but she does purr when she's happy._

_Controlling every muscle in her body individually, Adora reached up and pulled her in to kiss her Catra gently on the forehead. “Sure do.”_

_And then she rolled over and tried to go back to sleep.  
  
Catra's hand, tentatively placed on Adora's back, somehow managed to convey so much—frustration, confusion, and eventually, just a desire to soothe whatever so pained Adora. They were in love. The motion—so gentle, almost unthinkable from the same hands that had so often tried to maul her—was just so...perfect. _

_And still not enough._

_They were in_ love _. It was supposed to be...good._

_Don't ruin this._

+

“How was it? Well, surely I don't need to tell you!”  
  
Adora sipped the tea, and looked Scorpia up and down. “Uh...”  
  
Plumeria was preparing for harvest season, so in the background a lot of hustle and bustle was happening in the usually placid kingdom. Nevertheless, Perfuma somehow was prepared for Adora's visit, and seemingly aware that it was meant to be somewhat private. Before Adora had known what was happening, the vine-stool was taking her knees out from under her and Perfuma was pouring floral-smelling tea into a ceramic cup Adora only vaguely remembered being handed.

Scorpia was, well...Scorpia. But in a dress, these days, like everyone seemed to be—even Adora, from time to time. It was part of the whole world _relaxing_ , like a fist unclenching and realizing it's allowed to not be combat ready any second.

“She's very proud,” Perfuma said, in a carefully neutral way.

“Of...the dress?”  
  
“No! Well yes. I think this one brings out my eyes,” Scorpia amended herself, beaming.

Whether it was true or not was totally lost on Adora and, she sneakily suspected, Scorpia as well. They were both army brats who had only become princesses quite recently, and had some catching up to do on the whole...dresses, and so on.

_Perfect_.

Perfuma's smile grew...patient. “Sweetie, just tell her...”

“I,” Scorpia said, beaming with pride, “am heavily pregnant!”

Adora coughed into her tea a bit.

“Wh-what!? I mean, you are? That's great!”  
  
Scorpia and Perfuma smiled brightly.

“Right? That's...good. Right?”

“She's very excited,” Perfuma said, indulgently.

“Oh, man, I'm going to get _huge_!” Scorpia declared. “We Scorpions are a big people, you know. Big people that make big babies. Can't wait.”

Adora furrowed her brow. She wasn't an expert, but...

“I thought that was the part people didn't usually like.”

“She's going through something,” Perfuma said quickly, before Scorpia could go on and on about it. “As are you, I understand.”

Adora stiffened, spilling tea over herself. Somehow immediately there was a napkin in her hand—she really wasn't all there. “Oh, shoot, uh, sorry about that—really? Is it something I said—or like, my aura?”

“Well it's...you did fly here, unannounced, to ask us about our sex life. So it does seem like you're in a, um, conflicted place,” Perfuma continued, kindly. “Although yes, also your aura.”

“Ah.”

Scorpia leaned in conspiratorially. “If you're having trouble, let me ask you this: have you tried letting your lover tenderly wrap you in elaborately arranged vines, totally restraining you from head to toe, blind and mute to the world with your tail arranged into a massive floral arrangement, and then letting her vigorously impregnate you for several hours?”

Adora stared, mouth agape.

Scorpia smiled back, absolutely beatific. Perfuma just sipped her tea, although she did look a little pleased with herself.

“Uh...no,” she admitted faintly. “Since you ask.”  
  
“Oh, well, you should try it!” Scorpia declared. “Imagine it—being turned into a living work of art! And then getting pregnant! It is really something special, I gotta tell you.”

Adora tried to sip her tea again but it just managed to go down the wrong pipe and she coughed hoarsely for awhile as Scorpia and Perfuma beamed at each other.

“Sorry. Sorry. Uh, no, I—well,” Adora managed. “That's, that's great, Scorpia, I'm...really glad for you. Really.”

“Oh, well, thanks, Adora! That means a lot coming from you.”

“Anyway, Scorpia, I was, um...” Adora managed, trying not to think about anything in particular too hard, “I was...I wanted to ask you about...the Horde?”

Scorpia cocked her head. “What about the Horde?”

Adora realized, very suddenly, that she hadn't really thought of exactly how she wanted to get at this, but helpfully, the ground-in officiousness of a Vice Force Captain came to her rescue.

“Oh! Like about—okay. Yes, I've been meaning to talk to you about that,” Scorpia said, scratching behind her ear thoughtfully with a pincer. “You know, as I've been thinking about, you know, Catra, and you, and everything—well, I'm a little worried about you two.”  
  
“You are?”  
  
“She is,” Perfuma sighed.

“I'm beginning to think that _neither_ of you attended the mandatory two-week training about intercombatant fraternization and reproductive hygiene at _all_. Which, since both of you were—even just for a moment—promoted to Force Captain, is very strange. Huge oversight in the paperwork.”

Adora considered this.  
  
“I see. Well, thank you for thinking about it.”

Scorpia beamed again.

“And that definitely sounds like something Catra would skip.”  
  
“Oh, definitely. But of all people she needed it. There were diagrams and flowcharts in those presentations which, you know, honestly, I can't help but think would have really helped her with being more, you know, attentive to the emotions of her fellow Horde officers—”

Perfuma loudly cleared her throat.

“—and resolve her issues with you, of course,” Scorpia added contentiously. “Before things got too out of hand.”  
  
“Well, the fact that Shadow Weaver didn't bother including this stuff in my lessons probably means she _wanted_ things to be out of hand—”

“Oh, no, she just wanted you totally dependent and subordinate to her and would have done literally anything to keep you confused and isolated from other people,” Scorpia said, in an offhand sort of way. “Catra explained it to me in detail. I mean, you and I never even met until we were fighting and I was _preeeeetty_ important. Of course, She-Ra threw a spanner in that. So.”

Adora frowned. “So wait, hold on. I assume that this...presentation, it was about, you know, duty, and how you should think of your squad as like, parts of a machine—”

“No, no, no! That's why I'm worried about you two, you sound like the combat drill manuals! Which are all well and good for crushing the Rebellion,” Scorpia observed thoughtlessly, not noticing Perfuma roll her eyes a little, “but the social modules were all about loyalty and treating each other with a basic level of dignity. Loyalty to each other was loyalty to the Horde. That kind of thing.”

When Adora gave it a moment's thought—for all that the Horde were, you know, brutal conquerors and vicious fighters, it was true that she'd seen more bickering and infighting amongst the Princess Alliance than amongst Horde troops. They _were_ loyal and disciplined—to a fault, of course, since they were also thoroughly indoctrinated. There was competition, and rivalry, but never that sort of stubborn “I know better than you and I don't have to listen” argumentation that drove her crazy trying to keep the Rebellion going during the war.

In fact, the only Horde troops she could remember seeing _really_ fight with anyone else like that were...

_Oh._

“Wow,” Adora murmured. A lot of stuff was starting to make sense. Again. “Yeah, we...we definitely missed those lectures.”

“Mmmhmm. So you see why I was worried,” Scorpia said in an encouraging kind of way. “Well, that, and the Horde was a pretty diverse place. There were a _lot_ of very specific biology lessons to go through there, and I want to make sure you and Catra know how to—”

Perfuma raised a hand and shook her head, for which Adora was immensely grateful.

For awhile the three of them just sipped their tea. Well, Perfuma and Scorpia did, anyways.

“Sorry,” Adora said, to fill the silence. “I know this kinda comes out of nowhere.”

Scorpia looked sheepish. “Look, you're both...great. Really. Love you both to pieces. But...”

“But?”  
  
“Well, I might still have some of those flowcharts kicking around, let me see if I can find them—”

A lot could probably be read into Perfuma and Scorpia's relationship by how Perfuma's thin hand, which seemed so tiny and frail on top of the massive pincer, just reaching out gently was more than enough to still Scorpia rising to go sift through her belongings for antiquated Horde health seminars. Scorpia sat back down, seeming somewhat unsettled.

“Forgive me if I'm overstepping, of course,” Perfuma said pleasantly, “I know that the two of you have a lot of background and memories in that space, but I think perhaps we can all agree the Horde is not the most, er, _positive_ source of relationship advice.”

“But—”

“Scorpia. Sweetheart. Please. We've talked about this.”

There was a long, busy moment where they just looked at each other and still seemed to be talking. For some reason, Adora felt...

Like a kid. Not dumb, just...behind.

Weird.

“Just...old Vice Force Captain instincts,” Scorpia said to Adora, blushing awkwardly as if her apologetic tone weren't enough. “Sorry. I'm nervous.”

“We all often fall back into old patterns of behavior when we're nervous,” Perfuma said over the rim of her teacup.

Her eyes met Adora's.

“Maybe it would help if you told us what's _really_ on your mind.”

Immediately Adora regretted coming to Plumeria. It was _so_ easy to forget that Perfuma was _so_ much sharper than she seemed, since she was generally so airy-fairy and sort of spaced out all the time. _Especially_ because she never, ever _meant_ to be; she just saw through things like this.

Look at how much better Catra was, now that they had weekly meetings. And that was _Catra_ , who was...hurt. Bad.

“This is a safe place, Adora. Please don't be scared. We're here to listen,” Perfuma said, smiling placidly. Scorpia managed a grin, too.

They might as well have had green glowing eyes and an army of bots behind them.

“I'm—I'm—” Adora stammered, before shaking her head desperately. What was _wrong_ with her? These were her friends.

“Hey, Adora—”

_Hey, Adora..._

“This is all just really new to me, okay?!” she blurted, suddenly. “I'm just trying not to screw it all up!”

Scorpia and Perfuma had recoiled.

Too late, Adora realized she'd leapt to her feet and smashed her teacup on the ground.

“Oh, I'm so sorry,” she gasped.

Perfuma took a very deliberate breath in and out, then turned a peaceful smile on Adora. It was really, really irritating.

“It's quite alright.”  
  
“No, no, I—I'll...I'll...make you a new one,” Adora groaned, helplessly.

“I think I'll manage, but thank you for offering.”

Scorpia hid a chuckle behind a pincer. That was irritating, too.

Adora sighed. “Has anyone ever told you this whole 'peaceful vibes flower princess' thing can get kind of annoying?”  
  
“You have before. And Catra. Often,” Perfuma said, her smile growing just the faintest bit teasing around the corners.

This was not exactly what she wanted to think about at the moment, so Adora just grunted and looked away, not realizing she'd started hugging herself until it was already happening.

Perfuma frowned, just a little bit. “I...think I might have made a mistake, and pushed you a bit. I'm sorry.”

“No, no. I'm just...” Adora trailed off. “I don't know.”

“You clearly have things you need to work through,” Perfuma said, carefully. “But maybe...we're not the right people to talk to about them?”  
  
Annoying. Annoying annoying annoying. It was something in the eyes, just like it had been with Bow—like she knew something but wasn't saying.

They didn't _get_ it. But that was fine.

“Yeah, like, I'm so happy for the two of you, obviously, but, uh,” Adora said, forcing a wry smile, “you two _clearly_ have your own thing going on. And, you know, congratulations, and everything, but, uh—yeah, that's...not where I am right now. So, you know.”

Scorpia brightened up immediately, but the concern on Perfuma's face deepened.  
  
“Thank you, of course,” she said. “But I'm worried you didn't...that's not exactly what I was getting at—”

Adora was already turning to walk away.

“Don't worry, I'll figure this out. Come on...it's me.”

+

_No. Not now._

_She needed Adora being gentle and loving and tender now. Not this. Not when she's—_

_Cradled in her arms, trying not to sob.  
  
So small. So vulnerable._

_And still that..._ feeling _came._

_Not quite the same way as when they kiss or hold each other, but still—like a thunderstorm in her head, a galestorm in her heart. Furious and overwhelming and confusing and_ scary.

_It was so_ wild _. She felt like she was losing her mind. Why would this, seeing Catra struggling with so much pain, bring this out? It was...insane._ _It couldn't be right, or normal, to just want to..._

_It was so_ angry _. She was outraged that Catra felt anything but happiness, ever, and it made her want to—it made her feel—_

_It was getting worse. Like she was barely able to contain it anymore. Even just wanting to_ protect _Catra was making her want to_ roar. _Roar to everyone to leave Catra alone, forever, leave her to Adora and never, ever—_

“ _Seriously?”  
  
Adora looked down. Catra, eyes still weepy, was nevertheless giving her a fondly teasing smile._

“ _I—I'm sorry.”_

“ _Okay, new agreement,” Catra mocked, chuckling weakly. “Only one of us freaking out at a time, from now on. Agreed?”_

“ _R-right. Yeah. Sorry.”  
  
“Honestly, we're both so...” Catra trailed off, shaking her head faintly._

_Adora tried to relax and just hold her. It's what she needed._

_Not the other stuff.  
  
Catra was better after that. Maybe seeing Adora struggling too made her feel less alone, less trapped with all the bad memories in her brain. They laughed, they kissed, they dozed off reading next to each other._

_It was like a hot coal living in her brain, screaming one word, over and over and over._

+

“Why do you want to know, exactly?”

Mermista's reaction was not exactly what Adora had been expecting.

She'd braced herself for a lot of groaning and griping and having to argue a bit about etiquette or suchlike, not...this.

It had taken some doing to convince Mermista and Sea Hawk to receive her privately, mostly because it took some doing to convince Mermista of anything at the best of times. But after some begging, Mermista had been talked into shouting “Hey! Don't bother us for awhile!” at the castle staff and have a chat seated around a little tea table in one of her nine staterooms.

Now, though, Mermista and Sea Hawk peered at her suspiciously, and not in the “why are you asking such a personal question” way, more of a...conspiratorial one. Which was odd, to say the very least.

“Uh—” Adora managed, before sitting up straight and re-composing herself. “Look, I've just been made _very_ aware that I'm a little new to all this. You know. Love, and romance, and...”

“Sex,” Mermista said flatly, rolling her eyes. “You're a virgin. We get it. No wonder Catra is so cranky all the time.”

Adora ignored this, with some difficulty

“I'm just trying to, you know, scout the lay of the land. So to speak. I don't want to rush in and make a bunch of dumb mistakes.”

Mermista peered at her for a moment before slumping back in the chair, which was very much not made to be slumped in. “Oh, _please_ tell me you're not here to ask me to teach you how to kiss properly.”

“What?! No! I know how to—you've _seen_ us—”  
  
“Yeah, I've seen you two smacking your faces together, and honestly? I know some fish that have better lip action than you two. So. You know. I wouldn't be surprised.”

Adora gave her a sharp look. “I don't need to—I—I've examined some _very_ detailed diagrams and reviewed some books of... _informative_ books...”

Sea Hawk and Mermista exchanged a sort of pitying glance.

“Wow, I never thought I would feel sorry for Catra, like, ever. But now I'm like...” Mermista made a fist and opened it suddenly, like a firework. “ _Wow_.”

“Glimmer gave them to me,” Adora muttered, feeling a little attacked.

“That honestly just makes it _so_ much worse.”

“Yes, well, the point is—” Sea Hawk said, clearly preparing to leap onto the table, but Mermista shot him a glare.

“Keep your butt in that chair or you're sleeping with the fishes.”

He deflated. “Yes'm.”

Mermista held Adora in a long and slightly more irritated than usual glare for awhile before finally rolling her eyes and groaning. “Ughhhh. Fine. If you must know, I guess. It wasn't like, a big deal or anything.”

“But—”

“Shut up,” Mermista growled at Sea Hawk, before turning back to Adora looking her usual level of disinterested. “We took his boat up the coast. Had some seafood, which was, I dunno. Alright, I suppose. Then, you know, we got back on the boat.”

It took Adora a moment to realize that she was apparently done speaking.

“And then you—”

“Yeah. Sure. Whatever,” Mermista said, blushing a bit and looking away.

Sea Hawk sucked his teeth. “Tsk tsk tsk. Oh, my dearest Mermista, though I love you with all my heart, I'm struck! _Struck,_ I say! when you tell it like that there's no _drama_! No _romance_!”  
  
Mermista glowered, but blushed a bit harder. “Oh yeah. Romance. He, uh, he brought some wine. It was pretty good.”

“Chateau Lily-sur-Fraise, ten year cask-aged. Won fair and square in a duel—”

“A game of boules,” Mermista corrected.

“—against a foe of such legendary pedigree and ignoble background—”

“Hordak. The real one, which, again, are we just okay with him running around—”

“—in a struggle that lasted so long it tested the endurance of even those who bore witness to it!”

“Okay, that part _is_ true, I had to watch them throw balls around for like, four hours.”

“Huh,” Adora said, holding both of them in a suspicious look. “Sounds nice.”  
  
Sea Hawk and Mermista gave each other a glance. Adora's brow furrowed.

“It _was_ nice,” Sea Hawk said, in a noticeably nonchalant sort of way. “Lovely day. Lovely night.”

“Where'd you say you went, again?”

Mermista sat up sharply. “Nowhere in particular—”

“Andalus,” Sea Hawk replied, automatically.

“Andalus,” Adora murmured. Where had she heard that name recently?

“Yes! Lovely little town up the coast. Good shrimp.”

“...fishing town?”  
  
“Well, _shrimping_ town, but yes—”

There it was. _Shrimping._

The word had stuck in her memory because she'd never heard it before and it sounded funny. Just a note somewhere down a report she'd overheard while lounging around Brightmoon and vaguely pretending to take her job as defender of Etheria seriously.

“Their...harbor burned down,” Adora said, as horrible realization dawned.

Mermista was staring daggers at Sea Hawk, who had his hands raised in a very familiar shrug and was grinning in that very special way he had which just screamed, “who, me?”

“In our defense,” he said, each word making Mermista's eyes widen in deeper and deeper fury, “it was _completely_ unintentional. And no one was hurt. And we are paying for the repairs, so, no harm done...”

The tense silence was broken as a chair arm snapped out of place. Mermista's eyelids were beginning to twitch.

Adora took in a deep breath. “Okay. I just have one more question. Which...I really wish I could make myself not ask.”

“Yes?” Sea Hawk said, apparently unaware of, to speak metaphorically, the fin slicing towards him in the surf.

“Was this _before_ or _after_ you two—”

Mermista turned to Adora, very suddenly smiling excitedly, eyes glittering. “Oh, no. It was _during_.”

Adora grinned manically and stood up. “Thought so. I'll just see myself out, then.”

She was vaguely aware of a lot of loud, busy sounds behind her as she hastily made her way back towards where she'd landed Darla, but tried not to think about them too much. She was certainly getting an education.

+

“ _It's okay if you just don't want to, you know.”_

_Adora could hear the effort it had taken for Catra to get herself to say that. The strain against the invitation to disappointment._

“ _No, Catra that's—that's not it.”_

“ _Okay, you say that, but—”_

“ _I_ mean _it.”_

_Oh how she meant it..._

_It was a sign of the uncomfortable but not_ angry _nature of the fight that they just weren't looking at each other—Catra sitting in an open windowsill to a sixty foot drop and Adora staring at the ceiling on her bed._

_It had been a long day already and then—well, she'd frozen again._

_Adora wanted to scream. This was torture._

_The whole_ problem was _—_

“ _Adora, did...did something_ happen _? You know, something...”  
  
Something bad._

“ _No.”_

_That would make this make some terrible kind of sense. No easy answers today though._

_Catra hissed out a frustrated sigh. “Look, I get if you really can't talk about something like that just all of a sudden, but...”  
  
“There's just nothing like that to talk about.”_

_They sat in uncomfortable silence for long enough that Adora almost worried she was going to pass out. Being this stressed was more draining than...well, not_ anything _she'd ever felt, but it was weird how it just ate away at her energy._

_Rather suddenly Catra turned in place on the sill and was facing Adora, her face a portrait of frustration, but not overt hostility—which was in itself a significant milestone in her emotional maturity._

_“I love you. I really do,” she said, her self-control straining on every syllable. “And I wish I could say I have infinite patience to wait for you to deal with whatever this is. But it's gotten to the point where it's not just a little weird—it's...its...”_

“ _It's not you, I promise—”_

_Catra raised a hand sharply and winced away._

“ _It's scaring me,” she admitted._

_Adora's guts churned. She was afraid of so much right now, and it was making her do something somehow_ worse _. It must have shown on her face because Catra—bless her—automatically reached out to comfort her, but shied away as soon as she realized._

“ _If you can't talk to me about it, that's...fine,” Catra nakedly lied. “But please, Adora. Figure this out. It's really getting to me.”_

_She turned and began to walk out of Adora's bedroom._

“ _I love you,” Adora blurted, impulsively, and wished she hadn't._

_Catra turned, just enough to show her blink away the tear with a frustrated growl._

_“I know. That's why this is so hard.”_

_And so she left. And while she came back, later, there was just something in the air that felt...grey._

_The next evening, Adora got Bow and Glimmer alone, and asked:_

+

“Ex _cuse_ me? Oh, you better not mean 'our first time' doing what I _think_ you mean,” Netossa declared, in exaggerated offense.

Adora struggled to make herself look at the viewscreen. She knew this was a bit of an imposition.

“Look, I'm...just...”

“Adora, look. I like you, and think of you as a, you know, _significantly younger_ friend, but it is _very_ clear that they had some weird ideas about personal space growing up in the Horde because _believe_ me that is a weird thing to just come out and ask people about—”

“I _know_ ,” Adora grumbled, miserably, slumping into Darla's command throne. This was probably not the sort of heroic endeavor the First Ones had intended when they'd built her.

“Then why would you—”

“Netossa, darling, look at her,” sounded the much calmer and more soothing voice of Spinnerella. “She's not just asking out of idleness. Something's really bothering her.”

Adora made herself glance upwards. Netossa, still looking a little irritated, made room for her more matronly wife, who had a patient smile on her face.

For a moment, she thought of Bow and Perfuma, and how annoyed she'd been by them, but...

Maybe she was just too tired to be angry anymore. The memories were dragging her down, haunting her, nagging at her mind. All the times she'd been so _close_ , and felt—

Wrong.

“Look, never mind. I'm sorry I even—”

“Adora, look at me.”  
  
She made herself. Spinnerella's smile grew strained for a moment.

“I look that bad, huh?”  
  
“You look miserable like I have never seen you,” Spinnerella said, kindly.

Behind her, Netossa tossed her head a bit as if to say, 'well, there was that war that one time, but you know, sure'.

Which was fair. An unfortunate amount of Spinerella and Adora's interactions had been under less than ideal circumstances, to put it _very_ mildly. But in the times before and since, it was obvious why Netossa was so obsessed with her—anyone would be.

There wasn't any space in that smile for anything but patient kindness. People needed that like they needed fresh air and water.

“Sorry.”

“You don't have anything to apologize for, Adora. I'm pleased you felt like you could reach out to us when you were suffering.”

Adora forced herself to sit up straight in the throne, but couldn't think of anything to say.

“I don't...I don't know why you're asking after that,” Spinnerella said, a little awkwardly, after awhile. “But I suspect—”

Netossa scoffed. “Oh, come on. I'd be terrified too, trying to get that wildcat in the bag.”

Adora frowned. “What? No! That's not—”

But this had already become a discussion between the couple.

“Darling, I sincerely doubt she's that upset by the prospect of sharing company with a beautiful young woman.”

Netossa's eyebrows raised in peculiar interest. “Oh, _beautiful?_ She's tried to kill us _how_ many times?”  
  
“Well Adora has certainly seen past it, and she's the one who's taken the brunt of it,” Spinerella said, politely gesturing to Adora. “I think we should follow her good example and be forgiving.”

“Yeah, but—”

“And you still have the squirt bottle.”

“That is very true,” Netossa said, nodding in a reasonable sort of way. “You do make a good point, my love.”

“She does have those nasty claws, though, so I would be careful, should things get...energetic,” Spinnerella said, turning back to Adora.  
  
“ _Careful?_ Ha!” Netossa barked a bitter laugh. “She's gonna need that _good_ She-Ra healing! I've seen what Catra can do...”

Adora squirmed in place, suddenly on the opposite foot of being embarrassed about sexual matters. “I feel like this has gotten away from me a little.”

“Oh! Right, right,” Spinnerella said, recomposing herself. “Pardon us.”

Netossa made gesture like “you asked for this”, but in a little bit more of a friendly way than earlier.

“Anyways,” Spinerella said, resuming her patient smile. “I feel like what you asked is the kind of absurd, out of nowhere question that you only ask in one of two situations. Either you don't know what to ask...or you know you're not asking the right question. So let me ask you, Adora—is there an answer we could have given that would have, instantly, solved your problem?”

Adora scoffed. “I don't know. Nothing, I guess—”

“Don't just answer. Think about it for a moment.”

She tried. But the truth was there wasn't much to think about.

She was just sad. And tired. The kind of sad and tired that bit down hard and made you want to stop feeling anything at all, and just hide. Forever.

Why was she _doing_ this?  
  
Adora shook her head. She knew why. If she wasn't doing this, she'd have to do _the other thing_.

And then...who knew?

What made it worse was that something in Spinerella's eyes suggested _she knew too._  
  
“I mean, it wouldn't _answer_ anything, but...” Adora forced herself to say.  
  
“Because your problem isn't about the circumstances of your first time having sex at all. Not really. That's not what's bothering you.”

Adora swallowed down something that wanted to be some ugly, pathetic sound. She was right, of course. “No.”

“That's okay. You're okay,” Spinerella said, and Adora believed it.

It must have been some magic. _Somehow_ , even through the viewscreen.

It was just so easy to answer Spinerella, be straightforward with her. Something about the smile, the kind light in her eyes, the way she seemed to just be _waiting_ , and then speaking your own thoughts _for_ you, not...telling. Bow and Perfuma were great, but deep down they were—

“—just feeling clever for telling me what I already know I need to do and they just wouldn't shut up and _listen,”_ Adora heard herself say. “I didn't need to be _told_ , I needed to be—”  
  
The world caught up with her, and she perked up in alarm, realizing too late that she'd been talking on and on for quite awhile.

“Needed to be...comforted?” Spinerella finished for her, quietly.

Adora's heart jumped a beat. “Wait, I didn't mean to...oh, no, I'm so sorry, I—”  
  
Spinerella's kind, patient expression hadn't changed, but Netossa had gone somewhat pale.

“I think it's clear you're a little...worn out,” Spinerella said, before clearing her throat. “Since I think you would have kept some of those details to yourself if you'd had more presence of mind.”

Adora collapsed, smacking her face into her hand. “Oh, no...”

“That's the trouble with wars ending, it's time for baby showers again,” Netossa grumbled. “It was only a matter of time.”

Spinerella smacked her belly playfully. “Oh, don't fuss. You love giving gifts.”  
  
“Crocheting baby blankets takes a lot of time, Spinny! Even for me! I only have the two arms...”

Adora rubbed her temples. This was getting really weird, and it had started pretty crazy. “Look, I don't know what I said to you, but—”

“Nothing about what's going on, if that's what you're worried about,” Spinerella interrupted, raising a calming hand. “I can tell it's hurting you very deeply, though.”

“Yeah.”  
  
“Anything about sex is powerful, Adora. You're not the first person to struggle with it. You're okay,” Spinerella said, looking quite earnest in a way that might come off as awkward on anyone else. That said, something seemed to be nagging at her attention.

Adora sighed. “Look, Spinerella, thank you. So much. But I've already _so_ overstepped my boundaries—”

“No, no, you're fine,” Spinerella said absently, tossing her head back and forth thoughtfully as a smile bloomed on her face. “In fact, I've changed my mind. I think there _is_ something I can tell you about our first time together that might help you.”

“What?” Adora managed.

“What?!” Netossa barked.

Spinerella's face spread into a calm but amused little grin. “And that is: I don't remember it very clearly.”

At this, Netossa sputtered in playful outrage. “ _What?_ ”

“Oh you don't either,” Spinnerella said, laughing. “It was a long, _long_ time ago. I remember...oh, _where_ it was. Sort of how the day went. I remember the first kiss pretty clearly, but not the rest of them...”

“Oh, _please_ tell me you remember the dress,” Netossa insisted, a little urgently.

“I do. Since you still have it. And it looks amazing on you to this day.”  
  
Holding herself up haughtily, Netossa made a show of looking pleased with herself.

Adora couldn't help but chuckle, despite everything.

“My larger point being that...yes, first _is_ special. But compared to other things we've done since? Eh,” Spinerella said fondly. “It was the first time, and that's all. And you know, if you get so wound up about making a mistake, you never even _get_ that first time, never mind the opportunity to have second times, or thirds...”

This was not Adora's usual problem, it has to be said. In fact, so much of what felt _wrong_ was that she was, for perhaps the first time, scared of just leaping in.  
  
But about _this_? About _Catra_?

This was too important to just...dive in. Right?  
  
 _Right_?

The truth she'd been avoiding so carefully hit her like a tank—and she _knew_ what that felt like.

Yeah, no. Of course not.  
  
Only one thing for it. One _person_ for it.

The most important person in the entire universe.  
  
A tear ran down her cheek and she brushed it away irritably. “Oh, man...”

Netossa grabbed Spinerella's shoulder firmly and gave it a proud shake. “Oooh, you see that? How she just turned that right on you? Oh, that's the good stuff.”

“Heh, yeah,” Adora managed, between coughing away some thickness in her throat.

“She's always like this, you know. You see why I love her. Like, you choose who you choose, but you gotta admit I won the wife lottery.”

Spinerella leaned her head against Netossa's arm and blushed.

They were pretty cute, these two...and so _obviously_ in love. She couldn't help but be a little jeal—

No, that...that was wrong.

“I should hope _we're_ like this someday,” she murmured. “Shouldn't I?”

For the first time, Netossa looked openly sympathetic, but she just squeezed Spinerella's shoulder again.

“As I said, you're not the first person who's struggled with...difficulties,” Spinerella said in a polite but clear tone of 'this is a me problem we don't need to get into just now'. “But it is a struggle you can win. If you want to. If you're willing to braver than you've ever been.”

The tears were going to come. Adora couldn't stop them anymore, but for now they just nagged and burned at the corner of her eyes and made her feel like a child, picked apart easily as she had been so many times, long, long ago...

“I don't know everything about Catra, but I know enough about your relationship to say that I think you need to accept that she is not the only person in it who needs a lot of healing,” Spinerella said quietly. “And I think you need to trust she'll accept it, too.”

It was embarrassing. Adora didn't want to be seen, but she couldn't be rude and just shut the transmission off. Still, she raised her arm up over her nose and mouth as she began to blubber and get gross.

“Y-yeah, b-but I think I need to have a good cry about it f-first.”

Netossa gave her a thumbs-up as Spinerella's face filled the screen so she could turn the communicator off and give the now-sobbing Adora the privacy she deserved to _hurt_ , very loudly and very aggressively.

“That's usually a good first step. And Adora? We believe in you.”

+

_First times are important._

_Horde Prime had been defeated. Everyone was safe. The universe was free._

_And they were in each other's arms, alone, at long last._

_Adora didn't even know where they were—some corridor, somewhere, abandoned and far away. No one had followed them—Melog saw to that, and now even they were giving the two young women space for this most private reward._

_She thrilled at it—the feel of Catra, the smell, the tingling nervous energy. The delirious joy of rising passion, how she so willingly embraced Adora, and accepted all the love and need Adora was so desperately pouring into her, and_ perfectly _fitted to her and_ wanted _and_ _ **submitted**_ _and_ _ **more**_ _and_ _ **MINE**_ _and—_

**MORE.**

“ _Ow, hey! No need to be so rough!” Catra said through bright laughter, shaking free of Adora's grip with a bright smile—_

_And it happened for the first time._

“ _Adora?”  
  
“What's wrong?”_

“ _Why are you looking at me like that?”_

“ _Hey, are you okay? You look really pale.”_

“ _Adora, talk to me...!”_

+

The Fright Zone—

Well it wasn't really, anymore. It was more of the Topiary Zone at the moment.  
  
Adora had been back before, several times. It still amazed her to see the old familiar pipeways and steel pinnacles overgrown. Greenery in general seemed strange here, especially since the constant yellowy haze of constant twilight hadn't changed much.  
  
Places she'd known since she was a tiny girl were now totally different. Beautiful, in a sort of crazy, untamed way, but...different.  
  
Better. Maybe.

But _different._

Maybe it was that, thinking about _change_ , that had made her want to come here. Or maybe it was thinking about Catra, or about Shadow Weaver, about being a kid, who she _was—_

About everything that was wrong with her.

She wandered the streets, forced from time to time to hop, skip, and jump over fallen branches or gnarling, winding roots and vines. As much as she pretended not to, something deep inside knew where to go.

Into the citadel. Up the stairs. Across the plazas and through the ready rooms, the staging areas, the overgrown hangers and ruined barracks. Through broken, blasted-out doors and across shattered walkways...

She remembered them as they were—only slightly worn and used. Always thrumming and alive with power, humming and swishing and buzzing. In that way this new, overgrown Fright Zone felt...dead. Too quiet, too still.

_Good._

Anyways.

Up, and up...

And out...

And...

Somehow, Adora _knew_ she'd be there waiting. Leaning on the rail, way up, like they'd done together so many times, too long ago. It was just...obvious.  
  
It could only happen here. Their special place.

As if nothing had changed in all these years, Catra glanced over her shoulder, and smirked. Melog wound around her legs.

“About time. It's been so long, I thought you might have forgotten how to get up here.”

“Never,” Adora murmured. She strode forward, still sort of not believing it was true. “How are you here?”

Catra gave her a noncommittal sort of expression and looked away. “I think you already know.”

_No_.

But...she'd _hoped_ , hadn't she. It made all of this so much easier.  
  
And she hadn't been alone.

Adora still made herself frown. “You've been with me this _whole time_?”

“Well, Bow and Glimmer insisted I leave you three to have a private chat, which was fine by me,” Catra replied, still gazing out at the distant horizon. “You can't keep a secret to save your life, you know. But when I saw you stomping off towards Darla with the two of them begging you to explain what was going on, I figured it was probably invisible girlfriend time.”

To accentuate this, Melog gave a sonorous _brrowww._

“They say they were worried too,” Catra interpreted.

_Brrroowww, rrrow. Mrrrow._

“Okay, fine, but that's the _point_ of what you said.”

_Rooow!_

“Oh, go find something else to annoy,” Catra grumbled, flattening her ears and blushing.

Melog tramped away, looking—if Adora was any judge—rather pleased with themselves. They rubbed her legs on the way past, which was a nice gesture. Halfway back to the access hatch they vanished, but Catra kept glaring in that direction for awhile, which suggested that the little magical cat beast didn't fall far from the Catra.

Adora wanted to be annoyed with Catra, really, but...

Up here?

Now?  
  
This is where they _needed_ to be.  
  
She took up her familiar place next to Catra and stared out at the golden, shimmering sea of leaves gently dancing in the amber light of the Zone.

“Did you follow me in Plumeria and Salineas?”  
  
“Yep,” Catra said, huffing a little laugh. “And here I assumed all the princesses would be kind of uptight. And Scorpia—whew!”

“Hey. She's happy.”  
  
“Yeah, I...I guess,” Catra said, in a sort of...complicated tone of voice. That was still on her list of things to sort out.  
  
Adora's chest tightened. “And...when I called...”  
  
Catra was quiet for awhile. A wind whistled across the open expanse of growth below them, turning the leaves into a wave of gold.

“I...didn't stick around,” she said, eventually. “I had to, uh, you know. Be somewhere else for awhile.”

Which was a very _Catra_ way of apologizing for sticking her nose where it didn't belong, of course. Especially since the tone of her voice suggested a very clear mental image of her sitting alone around the corner while Adora ugly cried, covering her mouth and resisting the urge to ruin everything by showing up too soon, Melog desperately trying to comfort her.

They stood in silence together for awhile longer, staring out not at the horizon as they used to, imagining all the distant lands they would one day march out and capture, but instead down at the ruin of the Fright Zone and the renewal of Etheria.

That was different, too—when they were young, they'd laugh and argue and brag and bicker and shove and tease...

“Do you...do you ever think about what would have happened if I stayed?” Adora asked, not really meaning to indulge the thought.

Catra barked a bitter laugh. “Not as much as I used to.”

“Mmm.”  
  
“I mean, we know better now, right?” Catra mused, leaning on the rail with casual confidence considering the hundred yard drop between her and the ground. “We'd have won. Conquered everything. Hordak would have opened his portal, eventually, and then...well, we know what was on the other side, don't we?”

Adora wondered if she even realized she still itched the back of her neck when she thought about him.

But that was for later.

“You're sure we'd have won, huh?” she asked, trying to laugh at it.

“Oh yeah. You were the only thing that really managed to slow just _me_ down, so, you and I together...?” Catra made a dismissive sound. “Wouldn't have taken more than a few months, once we were both wearing the badge.”

A few months, huh?  
  
But then, Catra always underestimated Glimmer.

“That—that's not really what I was talking about, though,” Adora said, shaking away some very grim thoughts of a cruel and unfriendly world that, blessedly, had never come to pass. “I meant...you know. You and me.”  
  
Catra didn't exactly wince, but Adora knew that was because she had been bracing for it. They both had. But she'd given it some thought and didn't know how else to start this.

Typically, Catra tried to laugh it off. “Heh, you mean like everyone already assumed we were?”

“But—”

“Adora, nobody _got_ us,” Catra complained. “Because they didn't know what Shadow Weaver was like, what she did to us. How she tried to make you into this... _perfect soldier_ , even before She-Ra. Not even Lonnie and her idiots, and they _saw_ some of it. After you left, nobody dared bring it up but I could tell—they thought everything that was going on was between, you know...”

_lovers_

Adora shook the word—the image, the _need_ away.

“Kinda was, huh? I mean, knowing what we know, now.”  
  
Catra looked away, sniffing sharply. Whether out of anger or sorrow, Adora couldn't quite tell.

“Thinking about it—about us, on the way here,” Adora said, heart pounding, “I thought: I wonder if it would have been easier. I mean, I was Force Captain! Finally, after all that hard work, all that struggle. Maybe then I would have been able to— _allowed_ to focus on the only thing I really cared about in the Horde, beyond that.”  
  
Shyness was so rare on Catra's face that it was startling, but the grateful little grin made it even more special.

“Maybe you should ask me if I've thought about what it would have been like if I'd followed you to Brightmoon when you found the sword.”

“No,” Adora said firmly. She'd thought of that too.

“No?”  
  
“No.”

Catra's faint smile faded. “Is this your way of working around to telling me what's really going on with you?”  
  
Adora sighed, and stared out as she had hundreds of times before, alone with Catra on top of the world.

“Come on, Catra. It's _me_ ,” Adora said, bitterly. “ _I'm_ what's going on with me. Me, being dumb. And...and hurt.”

For a moment, Catra just stared at her.

Then she slid closer so they were shoulder to shoulder, and gave Adora a welcoming, gentle silence to fill.

The words just...came. Gushing, spilling out of her, into that eager quiet.  
  
It wasn't meant to be so easy. There should be tears, yelling—

Not the perfect comfort of Catra's warm fur against her skin. Not the solemn beauty of this ruined place, the childhood they'd shared destroyed and reborn into something unrecognizable.

“I know, Catra, I know you've wanted this for so long. That you've _loved_ me for so long. And I love you, so much. I really do.”  
  
Catra didn't say anything; she just gently put her hand on Adora's and squeezed.

“But...come on, I couldn't even understand that what we felt for each other was _love_ until you were kissing me as I was _dying_ ,” Adora moaned. “Before that, it was all just this...hazy, painful confusion. I needed you, _wanted_ you to be near me, to be friends again, to fight side by side, but I still drove you away at that last moment, because I am so _dumb!_ ”

The wind whistled again, giving Adora a moment to stifle a sniffle.

“And I know, it's all because I'm...behind,” Adora snarled. “I didn't understand your feelings when we were kids because all that mattered was being a Force Captain. And maybe that _was_ Shadow Weaver controlling us, but I didn't understand your feelings when we were fighting each other in the Rebellion war because all that mattered was being She-Ra. I didn't understand how you felt when we were fighting Horde Prime because all that mattered was saving the universe, and look how much that almost cost us. Everything!”

The pause lasted just a little too long—long enough that Catra stirred, and began to object—

“Adora—”

“It's the same now,” Adora interrupted, not wanting to stop in case the words stopped forming on her tongue so easily. “Except now there's _just_ you _._ And I feel so... _much_. All at once. New things, things that I don't know how to feel right. It's not just confusing, it's _scary_. When I hold you, kiss you... _want_ you...it's...”

This time Catra was patient.

“It's not what you deserve,” Adora managed. “You've hurt, so badly, for so long. And I want to love you _right_. Especially sex. I thought—stupid Adora, right—that trying to figure out how to do it right, ask people about it—that would help me figure myself out. You deserve something gentle and loving and calm and _healing_ but no matter what I do or think _it doesn't feel that way_!”  
  
She slammed her free fist down on the railing. It rattled in its decaying fixture, making both of them step back in alarm.

Their eyes met, as the odd _thwang-thwang-wibblewibblewibblewibble_ sound faded.

Adora's guts churned; Catra's expression was neutral and somewhat inscrutable, as it was when she was well and truly scheming.

“What, do you want to...hurt me?” she asked, quietly.

“No, of course not.”  
  
“Hold me down? _Force_ me?”  
  
“No—well, not exactly,” Adora managed, chest tightening as a couple stray memories forced her to be honest. “It's not that clear, Catra, it's just—it feels _angry_. _Hungry_.”

Catra cocked her head and peered at Adora curiously.

“It's just...it's too much,” Adora forced herself to say. “And I feel _wrong_ , Catra. Like...”

“Hmm,” Catra hummed thoughtfully.

And, as if they'd been talking about nothing more interesting than the weather, she began walking off.

It took Adora a moment to really grasp this.  
  
“Catra? Catra. Hey. What—”  
  
“Come on,” Catra said, not turning or slowing down.

Adora frowned. “Hey, I wasn't finished talking—”

“Yes you were. You coming or what?”

She kept going. Adora had to hustle to catch up—and even then, Catra was always just a little ways ahead, as usual. On _purpose_ , Adora suspected.

Down, down...

And in.

For a long while they silently followed familiar pathways and passed through rooms ruined and consumed by greenery—although the deeper they went, the less and less green there was. Some of the building seemed to be in pretty good shape, all things considered, although without lights even familiar haunts became quite eerie.

Adora felt herself getting more and more impatient with every step—this was _important!_ What was Catra _doing—_

“At least you _know_ you're being stupid,” Catra said, rather suddenly.

Adora paused for a moment, allowing Catra to get a few more paces ahead as she ducked under a half-closed blast door and passed deeper into the building.

“I—hey, wait! Not all of us can see in the dark, you know,” Adora complained.

“Come on, keep up,” Catra said, with her usual level of helpfulness. “Almost there.”

“Where are we going?”  
  
“Just come on.”  
  
They moved on in silence for awhile longer, aside from grunts of effort and strain when forced to maneuver through barely-split doors or crawl under fallen machinery.

“it's not just you, you know.”

Adora glanced up, and hit her head on something. “Ah! Owww...”

It was so dim here that it faded to pitch-black just ahead of her. Catra's voice could have come from anywhere.

“It's both of us. Spinerella was right...”  
  
A hand grasped hers and pulled her to her feet. Adora didn't resist.

It was almost like the only thing that existed were Catra's mismatched eyes, bright and wide. The rest of her faded into the darkness so easily, but those _eyes_...

“Maybe that's the worst thing about this,” she murmured. “We're both still being so dumb. You don't know what's wrong, and you're scared it's you, so you fight your way around the problem and hope everything works out and make it _your_ mission and try so hard not to burden me with it. _I_ get scared, so I tease, and push, and when I don't get what I want I get upset and try to run away and let you feel guilty.”

“Catra...” Adora whispered. She was so close, and it was...good. And bad. “Where are we?”  
  
Catra snapped her fingers. A small, dim amber light flickered to life.

It was—

“A force captain's quarters?”  
  
“ _My_ quarters,” Catra clarified. “But...”  
  
Something in the way she'd trailed off kept Adora silent. Catra's ears drooped awkwardly, and her tail swished in discomfort.  
  
“They would have been yours, if you'd stayed. I think something in me always kind of thought of them as...ours.”

There was a messy bed. An upturned dresser, a desk that covered in moldering paperwork that had very obviously been shredded by claws wielded in furious, desperate anger. A closet full of tattered uniforms.  
  
A little ledge, with nothing on it. No memories. No personality.

Adora turned back to Catra, who was giving herself an awkward one-handed self-hug and looking more than a little unhappy.

“This isn't your fault, Catra.”

“No, idiot, it's not,” Catra growled. “Weren't you listening? It's _ours_.”

“You didn't do anything wrong—”

“Look, this is all about you being _a hero_ again, and you just admitted you know that makes you act stupid,” Catra said, rallying in her reflexive anger. She shoved a finger into Adora's sternum, hard. “So will you just let me have my part of the blame? Please?”

Adora glanced down at the finger and back up at Catra, who looked away with a sniff.

“Tell me if I get something wrong, here,” Catra began, withdrawing her finger and stalking off to pace irritably. “So you and I will get going, you know, kissing or whatever. And then, suddenly, you'll feel like—oh, I want to kind of grab her, or hold her, and you feel _a lot_. Possessive. _Aggressive._ And then, because you're you, you think something dumb, like 'oh no, this makes me just like all those other people who hurt her and did bad things to her', blah blah blah _nonsense._ And then you worry you're a bad person, and you don't want to play anymore and you freeze.”

“Uh...” Adora managed. It really freaked her out when Catra could read her mind like this.

“Let me give you a big hint, a _really_ big one,” Catra exclaimed, rounding a fierce look on Adora. “All _I_ hear, when you say this, is that you want me _so badly_ that you can barely control yourself. That your sex is just the way _you are_. Big and aggressive and a little dumb, charging in, sword raised with a big goofy smile on your face. And you know what? _I love you_. Even that—no, no. Honestly? _Especially_ that. For some stupid reason.”

Well there was no arguing with that.

Still:  
  
“I'm not sure I like how much I like that as an image for me. You know,” she added, trying to laugh it off, “ _Dumb_.”  
  
“Alright, fine, I'll translate it into how people who weren't repressed for twenty-odd years talk about sex. You're a _top_ ,” Catra said, flatly. She stepped closer and gently rapped Adora on the shoulder, smirking. “Which is a surprise to exactly one person in this room and nobody else, anywhere. You're _fine,_ Adora. Haven't you picked up that there are a lot stranger things you could be into?”

It was true that nothing was on fire. This did seem a bit tamer than that.

“I don't see how this is at all your fault, though,” Adora mumbled, running the word through her head.

Lots of shapes and images and _wants_ and _desires_ and _needs_ seemed to line up to fit within the tiny space afforded by those three little letters. _Top._

Things she'd seen in the books Glimmer had shown her. Jokes she'd heard passing by the Brightmoon guards' barracks-room—and come to think of it, the Horde's, way back when. Things she remembered from holding Catra...

Oops, Catra was talking.

Not just that, she was _touching_ Adora. Embracing her, hands on hips, eyes wide with a desperate plea for forgiveness that she would never, ever put words to or allow to slip into her tone if she had a choice.

“I was just so scared, Adora. Scared, again, that you didn't want me the way I want you. I mean, you might not get this but some people are just like that, they don't feel that...need, and maybe that was it and you were forcing yourself, which I would _never_ want. I didn't know. I was scared, and _wanted_ this, so badly _,_ so I kept pushing you and pushing you and trying to make it happen and I should have _known_ you were just top dropping and being your big dumb hero self and—”

It was just...obvious, what she was supposed to do.

Stifle those words, that shame, with love.

Decisively.

The kiss was not hard, just firm, although a little awkward because for a moment Catra kept trying to talk.

And then she surrendered, let her arms grab Adora fiercely, and everything was _right_.

It wasn't scary, now that it had a name, a shape. It wasn't rustling in the underbrush, a dark shape seen out of the corner of her eye. It was the thrill of raising her sword, feeling her heart swell, of leaping in, defying deadly danger...

The rush of charging in, seeing the enemy realize you're coming...

The slightly cruel delight of pride in conquest...

_More._

“See?” Catra whispered, as they parted, smiling smugly. “It's not so bad.”

Adora closed her eyes and just...breathed. Let that feeling fill her, all the way to the tips of her fingers. She could feel them tremble, just a little. “And you...like it?”

“I like when _you_ do it,” Catra murmured. “Anyone else would be getting claws in the kidneys. But that's what I want, what I _have_ wanted, Adora, all along. You and me. _Really_ you. Wanting each other. _Honestly_.”

“Yeah,” was all Adora could think to say. Her head, among other body parts, were starting to run away with her. “Honesty. And I _do_ want you, I just—”

There was a sort of pause that interrupted the good mood.

She opened her eyes. Catra was giving her a very sarcastic look.

“Hey. Idiot. Look at me,” Catra smarmed, less needy and more...Catra. “Who am I?”

Adora raised an eyebrow. “Um. Catra?”

_“Your_ Catra—”

_Mine mine mine mine_

“—not Scorpia or Sparkles or Arrow Boy. Look, Adora, it's...it means a lot that you're this worried about me, but I don't need a walk in the gardens or for you to read me poetry.”

“Or to be tied up, or whatever.”

Catra considered this for significantly longer than Adora intended the throwaway joke to be. The three-letter animal her her chest perked its head up in interest.

“We'll...worry about that later. Look,” Catra added quickly, to forestall any more discussion on the issue, “Don't try to be some weird romantic, be my big, strong, beautiful idiot _Adora._ I kind of love her, you know.”

Well, if she had to be an idiot...

“Might as well be _your_ idiot,” Adora said, feeling herself blush.

“Awww, she's shy,” Catra said, leaning in...

It was a pretty chaste kiss, all things considered, and quick. But it was the equivalent of a wink across the room when they were forced to attend a boring meeting—a promise that more interesting stuff waited later.

They separated, to the mild displeasure of the hungry beast currently roaring for attention in Adora's chest—but no, she was in control. That feeling— _top_ \--stayed in its cage, it didn't run the zoo. Something else was happening now.

“Look,” Catra said, in a very tentative voice which Adora recognized as her 'I am forcing myself' tone. “As long as we're being... _honest,_ about this. Sex, I mean. There's another reason I brought us back here.”

“Yeah?”

Catra's eyes flashed to Adora's, looking fierce. “You _cannot_ make more of a big deal about this than it already is. Okay?”

“Yeah, of course,” Adora said, as seriously as she could manage.

Catra's face went through a brief journey of embarrassment and discomfort before she glanced away from Adora and mumbled, “Under the bed. Red box.”

“Uh—”

“Just...find it, okay?”

Adora was obligated to grab the little light off the desk and get down on her hands and knees to root around under the bed. Catra's descent into dark places was written all over the place in the shreds of reports, torn uniforms, broken pieces of armor...she was usually so fastidious.

“Not bright red, just _red,_ ” Catra said, peevishly.

“Okay, okay, hold on, there's a lot of junk down here—ah...”

It was a little battered and water-stained, but...

Adora sat up on her knees, and offered it to Catra. “Here.”

Catra stared at it for a moment, not moving to take it.

“Just...open it,” she said, finally, ears going flat.

Adora did. There was only one thing inside, set in some velvet, but thanks to Glimmer's reading list she didn't have to make a fool of herself asking what it was.

“Is this...yours?” she asked, getting to her feet.

“Yes.”  
  
“Like, you've, uh, _used_ it...?”

Catra's eyes narrowed dangerously. “Not in the way you _mean_ ,” she growled through grit teeth. “I told you not to make a big deal about it.”

The strap-on was made of white leather, bound with bright brass rings and clasps to hold had what Adora had to presume was a fairly normal-sized shaft. A noticeably shiny gold shaft, as it happened.

_I've wanted this for so long, Adora..._

Adora gave this some thought. A lot of them were happening all at once, and wanted to be real _right that very second why were their clothes still on_

_Nope. No. We're busy. Stay._

_Just be patient._

“So, you...uh...”

“Like I said, the only person in the entire universe to be surprised you're a top is you,” Catra added, in a sudden fit of unusual helpfulness which was almost certainly motivated by not wanting to have to talk about it any longer than she had to. “And I, maybe, one time, had a bit of a moment of weakness. And then, you know, some other ones, later. Shut up about it.”

Adora's heart swelled. “Wishful thinking, huh?”

Catra just gave her an irritated look, although it had a sort of soft edge that served to confirm that yes, indeed she had wished. She had occasionally wished very hard indeed.

“I just...couldn't actually touch you,” she whispered. “And those moments hit me _hard_ , right after you left. And towards the end. I needed...something. Not just wanting.”

“Well...I'm here now.”

Catra's ears twitched irritably. “I hated myself afterwards, you know. Every time. Told myself I was being stupid.”

Adora gave her a broad, cocky grin. “Well, hopefully not this time.”

In response to this slightly affected moment of confidence Catra frowned, but her heart clearly wasn't in it. Her eyes, in fact, might have been mistaken for hopeful.

“Yeah, well, we'll see if you're any good at it,” she said, reaching her arms around Adora's neck.

Adora _should_ have objected. This was, after all, a dusty, battered room at the center of the Fright Zone, which could collapse at any second. Who knew what all that green had done to the foundations? And, you know, there was every possibility that there were still Horde survivors kicking around, waiting for the right moment for a little revenge on the traitor and the wildcat.

And there was barely any light.

And they were both sweaty, grimy, and frankly, this was _not at all_ what she had in mind when she had, with some effort, allowed herself to imagine what their first time would be like. There should be stars, music, wine, dancing, candlelight—

Nope. They were being honest.

They were being Catra and Adora, not some fairy story princesses.

They were together. Here, where they'd come from. Where their pain had come from.

It was time.

“We'll take our time,” Catra whispered.

Adora knew, in the part of her brain that was still thinking thoughts, that this was meant to make her feel safe. Make her know Catra was supporting her, even now. But the _feeling_ , that swell in her chest didn't want to hear it.

“At first,” she murmured, feeling the awoken lion in her heart _roar_.

Catra's fierce smile was all the reply she needed.

The lead-in was not what Adora might have expected—it was quiet, and slow, since they were both a little tired. The kisses weren't wild and passionate, just...long and passionate. And satisfying. Catra had a little more idea of what she was doing, but she was happy to let Adora take the lead—and delighted as her confidence and comfort grew and they got more and more involved in the actual task at hand.

Deep down, Adora just _knew what to do_. She could feel it, somewhere in her gut—no, probably somewhere a little lower than that, but whatever. The point was this was...clear.

She'd been so worried that when the time came, and Catra was with her like this—not just naked, not just having sex, but _open_ , _vulnerable_ , she'd turn into some kind of ravening monster and just...

Ruin it. Ruin _everything._

But no. That's not who she was at all.

This was her. On top.

She led, she guided, she even demanded and held and, in a playful way, _forced_ , just a bit.

But it was all _for_ Catra, who was vociferous in her appreciation of getting what she'd so desperately wanted, even in the deepest depths of their painful alienation.

So when the time came:

“Ready?” Adora whispered. It wasn't _really_ a question.

Catra's breath shuddered for a moment. “I'm...scared, Adora. I want this. But I'm scared.”

Their eyes met.

“Me too,” Adora said.

It _was_ an admission, but not one of weakness. It was, in the moment, the most sincere expression of love she could think of.

When it happened...it was an honest moment.

Words went away. Thoughts went away. There was just the rhythm, of breaths and pounding heartbeats, of the drips of sweat falling from Adora's rippling muscles, of the fluttering chills running up Catra's spine as they finally, _finally..._

Well, you know.

And eventually it came to an end. It had to. These two had tested the limits of their endurance together many times, and those limits were rather exaggerated relative to most, but they weren't infinitely powerful magical beings. Not at the moment.

Adora collapsed next to Catra, panting hard enough that she had to give a couple dry coughs. Still, she managed: “Honest enough for you?”

Instead of a joking reply, she felt the extremely welcome pressure of Catra's body pressing up against her, arms wrapping around one of her own in a tight and loving embrace.

“You did alright, for your first time,” Catra whispered. "But I could give some constructive criticism, if you want."

Her tone was probably meant to be teasing, but it just came out affectionate.

Adora didn't say anything back; she just smiled, and pulled Catra into herself, cradling her gently.

If they were thinking clearly, they wouldn't have stayed. They would have cleaned up, snuck out, got back to Darla and headed home to Brightmoon, taken a shower...

But for the wounded warriors they truly were, at the moment, this little room deep in the bowels of what used to be the Fright Zone—somewhere they could never leave behind, not really—was theirs, and they were alone together at last, and the world beyond the doors was little more than a distant, unreal distraction.  
  
It could wait for them to wake up.

+

  
  


Bow and Glimmer looked up as Adora and Catra walked in to the dining hall. Glimmer raised an eyebrow, as she always did when Adora wore a dress.

She just felt like it. Okay? Leave her alone.

“Uh, hey, guys,” Adora said, lamely, raising a hand.  
  
Bow smiled broadly. “How're you doing?”  
  
“Better. _Way_ better,” Adora said, with special and very apologetic emphasis. “I'm...I'm sorry for how I acted before.”  
  
Something in the way Glimmer's eyes narrowed suggested that she intended to extract some more apology in the form of hard labor later, but Bow instantly raised his hand and Glimmer sat back, sulking only a little.

“I suppose I'm just glad you're both alright,” Glimmer muttered. “And Darla doesn't seem the worse for wear. Come on, then, it's breakfast.”

And that seemed to be it.

Adora took a seat and, unusually, was not immediately burdened with a Catra in her lap. Instead, Catra sat next to her, although in fairness, she slouched back and crossed her legs on the table.

Bow resumed reading something on his pad, and Glimmer was signing court documents as she listlessly chewed on some toast and drank her coffee, as usual. Catra and Adora sat in silence together, interrupted only by the dining attendant appearing with two already-prepared breakfasts and then returning with the _rest_ of their breakfasts, since they were very hungry muscular athletic ladies and he only had two hands.

Still...

Glimmer in particular kept glancing up at them, then pretending she hadn't. Bow cleared his throat a lot. That, and Catra's growing irritation at them, turned the silence into a _busy_ silence, which made Adora a little uncomfortable.

_More_ uncomfortable, to be clear. She was still a little stiff and sore. And while the shower had helped, some of the stuff that had happened _in_ the shower had just added an ache or three.

Eventually, Catra had enough.

“Just ask already,” she snapped.

Immediately, Bow and Glimmer looked up at them, grinning hugely.

“So, Adora,” Glimmer asked, voice absolutely _dripping_ with curiosity. “How was your first time?”

Adora chewed up the three sticks of bacon she'd shoved in her mouth and gave it some thought. She was assisted in this by Catra putting a hand on hers, nonchalantly.

“It was...” Adora trailed off, looking for the right word. Glimmer looked like she was about to fall out of her seat.

Ah.

Of course.

“It was _ours_ ,” she said, giving Catra a loving smile. “And it was honest. I couldn't be happier.”

They squeezed their hands, and were in love.

Bow clapped his cheeks. “Aww...”

Glimmer smirked at them. “Oh, yeah, super romantic. But you are _so_ not going to get away with this without giving up some details.”

“Oh, no, of course not,” Adora said, sitting up straight. “Right! So fun fact: Catra is really, really into having her—”

“ _Adora!_ ”

It was another day in Brightmoon, and therefore it was a lovely day. And it was off to a good start.

+

Firsts are always important.

Especially when they're _yours_.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> You know how you sort of...sit around, spitballing with your friends about what dumb kinks everyone would get into? That's basically what this fic's original premise was.
> 
> Well that, and you never see fics about nervous tops. They're always so sexy and confident. But you know, when you're a really good person, that need to be in control can feel like abuse, and...yeah.
> 
> And for those of you who read the original and were curious about my edits, I'd love your feedback about how I revised the scene to include all the necessary developments despite losing the sweaty bits.


End file.
